


Hard Justice

by ShimmerShadows



Category: Miami Vice (TV)
Genre: Bath Houses, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sauna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShimmerShadows/pseuds/ShimmerShadows
Summary: Sonny and Tubbs need to go undercover to catch an untouchable dealer.





	1. A Place Like This

**Author's Note:**

> If you're looking to set the mood, throw on Mr Mister's "Broken Wings" (on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nKhN1t_7PEY )

"There's something strange about this case, Sonny." Tubbs looked out into the distance, over the azure waters of the Miami marina. "I think we've lost sight of the main goal while chasing after Lennozo's men."  
  
Sonny threw the last of yesterday's steak dinner to Elvis. The croc barked, staring at the chunk of medium-rare cow that lay near his feet. "Maybe Lennozo thinks he can keep us busy booking 2-bit dealers and college kids that we'll never be able to put anything on him."  
  
"What's the worst that we've got on him now? Seems like we've got him for terrible taste in suits and an affinity for lobster."  
  
"We'll crack his shell." Sonny threw his cream-colored jacket on, a pleasant contrast from his pastel blue shirt that always grabbed Tubbs' eye. He holstered his pistol, and tucked his keys in his suit pants pocket. "Let's drive"  
  


* * *

  
  
Sonny pulled in front of the Hot Pepper club. "Sonny, this sort of place isn't really my style. I mean, they play a lot of Culture Club here, if you get my drift."  
  
"Cool it, Tubbs. This club's matchbook is the only thing we've ever found that ever looked out of place in any of Lennozo's operation." He carefully placed his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. "Just follow my lead. If we pull a badge here, we could blow this whole operation."  
  
The doorman stopped them both. "Sorry, this is a closed establishment."  
  
"Not what I heard," Sonny said  
  
"Look, I don't want troub-" the doorman said, as Sonny reached across, tenderly placing his hand on the doorman's groin. Sonny's mouth connected with the doorman's, and a quick probing dart of Sonny's tongue travelled across lips, tapping startled teeth. Sonny pulled his neck back, breaking the kiss and leaving nothing but the sight of his blue eyes.  
  
"Hmm, you're good," said the doorman. His eyes quickly scanned Tubbs, now sporting a conspicuous erection in his pin-stripe suit. "Your boyfriend thinks so, too."  
  
Before Tubbs could sputter out his thoughts (a swirling mixture of confusion and arousal) Sonny grabbed his hand and pulled him up the marble staircase of the Hot Pepper club.

 

* * *

  
  
"It must be pretty hot in those suits," said the bartender, his firm hands grasping a shaker dripping with condensation. "Surprised you didn't leave them with coat check."  
  
"I thought the suit made the man," said Sonny. Tubbs eyes were fixed to the lights that surrounded the disco ball looming over the dance floor. "I guess I'm a little old-fashioned. Maybe that's why I picked up this fine gentleman here."  
  
"Uh, yeah, that's me," Tubbs coughed.  
  
"This his first time here?"  
  
"Yeah, it is. Say, you wouldn't happen to know if the bath house is open downstairs?"  
  
The bartender's shaker stopped cold. "Sorry, sir?"  
  
"My fault. I just assumed a place like this might have some place for someone who's a bit sweaty get nice and clean." Crockett pulled his jacket off (skillfully pulling off the holster concealed inside), revealing his muscled arms.  
  
"Sir, I'm afraid that facility is for VIPs only."  
  
"You heard him, Sonny, we're not very important." Tubbs makes to grab his arm, which Sonny pulls away as he flexes his arms over his head.  
  
"Are you sure we couldn't go down, just for a quick shower?"  
  
The bartender bit his lip. "One minute." He finished pouring the drink, then reached for the phone behind the counter. After a few words with the person on the other end of the line, he pointed to the video camera above the bar. Sonny looked up, and after a quick stretch and running his hands through his hair, the bartender nodded his head and put down the phone.  
  
"Drink's up."


	2. Twin Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the only way to get what you need is to go deep undercover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter's mood music, listen to Laura Branigan's "Self Control" (on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IyAGpooGko )

Sonny swaggers into the steam room, towel hanging at his hips over a poorly concealed erection and firm buttocks. The moisture in the air smells of peppermint and walnuts, hangs on the skin like a film. Tubbs lurks behind Sonny, his face holding a casual smugness, betraying his alertness and fear.  
  
Drops of condensation run down the off-white tiles lining the wall. The grout on the wall is smooth, contrasting with the rough stippled texture on the floor. The throbbing bass from upstairs gently reverberates through the room, a low rumble they feel with their bare feet.  
  
The steam is thick, but Sonny spots his man Lennozo laying against the wall, sweat dripping down his chiseled chest. 'Not half bad without those suits,' Sonny thinks, a throwaway thought in a crowd of uneasy thoughts.  
  
"This spot taken?"  
  
"Not yet."  
  
Sonny sits beside Lennozo, with Tubbs next to him. He rolls his head on his shoulders, taking in a deep breath of the steam in the room. The air leaves a tingle in his nostrils, and his abdomen oscillates in and out. Lennozo cracks just a hint of a smile as his eyes follow the rhythm of Sonny's chest.  
  
"Can't say I've seen you around here before. I'd remember abs like that."  
  
"Oh, I just enjoy a good soak once in a while. Steam rooms are really good for the circulation. I can see it's helped yours a bit."  
  
Sonny gestures at Lennozo's towel, barely concealing an erection.  
  
"I don't mean to sound rude, but I think your friend wants it as bad as I do."  
  
Lennozo's head tipped towards Tubbs, sweat dripping from his brow as Tubbs leans forward, rubbing his hand down the inside of his thigh.  
  
"Well, I'll let you two get at it," Lennozo said, leaning back against the  
wall.  
  
In the span of a second, Sonny and Ricardo share a conversation with their eyes in a language that undercover vice cops need for survival.  
  
'We have to give up.'  
  
'We're out of options, Tubbs. We're so close. Do you trust me?'  
  
'You better be right.'

Crockett peels the towel off Tubbs lap, revealing Tubbs' erect cock standing at full attention. Tubbs breathes in slowly to control his heart rate, which is pulsing like a drum machine. Crockett runs his tongue over his teeth, a hint of his hastily drunken cocktail hanging in the back of his throat, as he gets to his knees. He runs his hand slowly down his partner's inner thigh, his thumb collecting small beads of sweat. Sonny runs his tongue from the base of the shaft to the tip, then a slow sucking of the head. The alcohol enters Tubbs' bloodstream as his heart pumps a torrent across his eardrums. Tubbs' palms are flat on the tiled bench, but his fingers curl on the moist surface, searching for somewhere to grip. To steady his body's shaking he rests his hand on Crockett's head, his fingers running through gelled, sweaty hair.  
  
Sonny's eyes rise to meet Lennozo's, locking in with a 'fuck me' wink. Sonny's free hand reaches over, sliding up Lennozo's leg. Lennozo obliges, moving over as Sonny's hand slides under the towel. As Sonny's head bobs, his mouth taking in Tubbs, his hand hypnotically strokes the shaft of Lennozo. The strong grip of his hand runs over flesh and nerves, blood throbbing beneath skin as Lennozo's hips buck involuntarily in small, ecstatic bursts.  
  
"Fuuuuh!" cries Tubbs, as Sonny's head pulls back, his lips giving one last caress as Tubbs ejaculates a liquid jet that lands on his thighs and the bench. The animality of the sight drives Lennozo over the edge, his toes cracking as they curl inward, a rope of cum snaring Sonny's wrist.  
  
The room echoes with the sound of contented gasping.  
  
"Well," Lennozo says as he pulls Sonny's hand off, "you've got my attention."


End file.
